


Breakup

by ficsandcatsandficsandcats



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsandcatsandficsandcats/pseuds/ficsandcatsandficsandcats
Summary: Reader Request: Could you do a Jask/Reader one where the reader comforts Jask after a nasty breakup, and kinda leans a bit too heavy on the "comfort." Like not being able to push down the fact that shes actually relieved hes single and keeps hitting him with stuff like "you're too good for her" and "she doesn't know what she just lost out on." And just generally doing all that Post-Breakup care
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 6





	Breakup

You knew what had happened the moment you walked through the door. Jaskier was playing _that_ song. That wordless little bundle of chords that you had privately named the “Countess de Stael” song because he always played it when she’d broken up with him. You’d heard it at least three times in as many months and, like the other times, you had to bite back the smile it brought to your lips. Not only did this mean that you didn’t have to pretend to like the woman, you would get more time with Jaskier again. Whenever he and the Countess were “on again” she kept him close, monopolizing his time. Not anymore. Well, not until the next time she came calling. But you tried not to focus on that right now. Right now you had a friend to comfort.

“Y/N,” he said once he spotted you, his voice melancholy, “Y/N, it has happened again.”

“Oh Jaskier,” you said with a sigh, pulling him in for a hug. You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you felt his strong arms wrap around you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and you held him for as long as you could before it would be weird. Maybe just a few seconds longer than that. You took a seat next to him and signaled for two meads.

“Tell me,” you said.

“I don’t know what happened, really. We’d had a lovely evening together and I had composed a new song for her and as I was performing it she just… dismissed me. Told me I could go. Geralt once hinted that perhaps she didn’t like my singing…”

“If she doesn’t like your singing she’s a damn idiot and a tone deaf one besides,” you said fiercely. This brought a smile to Jaskier’s face for a moment but it was gone again with a heavy sigh.

“Maybe I’m just getting old,” he guessed, “Yennefer has mentioned my wrinkles of late…”

“Yennefer just says things to get a rise out of you. Look,” you seized his face in your hands and made a big show of scrutinizing it for wrinkles and definitely not taking advantage of the opportunity to gaze into those clear blue eyes or admire the expressive curve of his eyebrows of his strong nose or lips so soft you just knew that if you were to touch them with your own it would be heavenly…

“Y/N?”

You quickly drew your eyes away from his mouth, realizing you were staring with thinly veiled longing, and released his face.

“Just as I suspected,” you said, “Not a single wrinkle. You’re just as gorgeous as ever.”

“Well… I don’t know if gorgeous is accurate…” he muttered, though you saw a hint of blush play about his cheeks.

“Jaskier you are everything a person could want and more besides. You’re charming and handsome and funny and kind and talented and if she doesn’t see that, all of that, then she doesn’t deserve you. I don’t know who could deserve you, honestly,” you said, your voice growing a little sad as you finished. By the time you’re done talking Jaskier is smiling, still a little sad but bouncing back. After as much practice as he had with her leaving him, it was probably more due to a building tolerance than your words. But he still grasped your hand and held it tight.

“Thank you Y/N,” he said, “You always know just what to say. Maybe someday I’ll be lucky enough to have a lover who sees me the way you do.”

You stared at him for a beat, fighting the dual urge to kiss and thwap him upside the head, and finally settled on taking a large pull from your glass.

“Well!” you said, your voice just a tad higher than usual, “Here’s hoping!”

You held out your glass to his and he clinked his against it, toasting for a better future and, you added silently, the courage to offer what he sought someday.


End file.
